I am DragonBorn of Legend!
by GreenGuardianSora
Summary: Tyradus is a Nord who came home from Cyrodiil, expecting to find peace and quiet. Instead, he got caught up in a Civil War, became a Werewolf, and suddenly found that he's a Hero of Legend
1. Captured (Revised)

Chapter 1: Caught

Tyradus sat in a carriage, along with three other Nords. Two in armor, and one in rags. Their hands were bound with leather straps.

He looked closely at the Nord who was gagged with a cloth. He was familiar, but Tyradus couldn't put a name to his face.

The four had been captured by the Imperial army when crossing the border from Cyrodiil. Tyradus knew that he was innocent, but he didn't know about the others. He had a feeling that it was because of them that he was taken prisoner.

Every prisoner had been silent for the trip, but finally, one broke the silence.

"Damn you Stormcloak rebels..." The Nord in the rags growled. "Everything was great until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If it wasn't for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell!"

The Nord across from Tyradus scoffed. "Their laziness was the problem in the first place, horse thief. They were too damn lazy to fight back against the Aldmeri Dominion, and that's why we're here! To take Skyrim back from the elves and restore our traditions!"

Tyradus's eyes widened. "So, you're the Stormcloak rebels? I heard a lot about you in Cyrodiil. Don't take that as a compliment, though. Those things aren't always, or ever for that matter, good. You're pretty famous for just being rebellious bastards who deserve death and nothing more."

"By the looks of things, you probably aren't too innocent, yourself. And even if you are, you look enough like one of us. I guess they have you mistaken for a _real _Nord, one that doesn't back the Empire."

"Just the fact that I'm a Nord doesn't mean I'm a rebel like you. I was just coming home to Skyrim when I was ambushed! Funny. The Imperial soldiers in Cyrodiil never attacked people without reason. That was only the Thalmor."

Ralof scoffed again. "I couldn't care less about how the Imperials act in Cyrodiil. I just want them to leave my homeland alone."

"Shut up back there!" The soldier driving the carriage shouted.

"What's his problem, huh?" The ragged Nord turned to the gagged one.

"Watch your tongue!" Ralof shouted "You're talking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

So, that's who it is? I knew he looked familiar. In the Imperial City, just about every wall is lined with paintings of Ulfric with... negative things that I'd rather not repeat written underneath."

"Figures. The legion will do anything in their power to turn others against all who oppose them. A word of advice, Cyrodiilian. Never trust Imperial propaganda!"

Lokir spoke up. "S-So, where do you think they're taking us?"

"Not sure," Tyradus responded. "But, if they've got the leader of the rebellion with us, I doubt it'll be too far away from Sovngarde."

"So, what village are you from, horse thief?" Ralof asked.

"Why do you care where I'm from? What difference does it make?"

"Well, a Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead... I'm from Rorikstead..."

"General Tullius, sir! The prisoners have arrived!" One of the Imperial soldiers shouted.

"Good, let's get this over with!"

Tyradus looked back. He saw an Imperial, mounted on a horse next to an Altmer, obviously from the Thalmor embassy.

"It's Tullius!" Ralof shouted. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him! Those god-damned elves! They probably had something to do with this!"

The carriage stopped at a wall.

"Wait..." Lokir whimpered. "Why... why are we stopping?"

"Why do you think?" Ralof replied, with a look of sorrow in his eyes. "End of the line."

The carriage came to a stop. The prisoners began hopping off.

A look of anger appeared on Tyradus's face.

_I'm not dying today! I'll escape, even if it means I kill every Imperial soldier here. I couldn't give less of a damn about the rebels. All I care about is that I get out of here!_

"You! Stormcloak! Tell them that I'm not with you!" Lokir was starting to panic.

"Face your death with some courage, thief!"

"Prisoners, step forward as we call your names from the list," an Imperial soldier said.

"Empire loves their damn lists!" Ralof shouted angrily.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm... for the next half hour, at least."

Ulfric glared at the soldier.

Ralof looked down, with the same look of sorrow in his eyes again. He looked up once more and shouted, "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!"

Ulfric walked toward the block.

"Ralof of Riverwood." The Stormcloak walked forward.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No!" Lokir shouted. "You can't do this! I'm not a rebel!"

"To the block, prisoner!" The Imperial general shouted, drawing her blade. "NOW!"

"You're not gonna kill me!" Lokir yelled as he took off, sprinting.

"ARCHERS!" The general shouted.

The Imperial guards loaded their bows. They shot six steel arrows heading straight for Lokir.

_Damn fool! Looks like I'll have to get him out of this..._

Tyradus shifted his hands as far as he could in the binds. All of the arrows changed course. They all barely missed Lokir. He was lucky enough to get away.

_Telekinesis... Haven't practiced that spell in a while. Glad to see it's still as powerful as ever!_

The archers loaded their bows again. Tyradus sent their arrows off-course once more. It bought Lokir enough time to disappear into the woods.

"Damn, one got away!" The general shouted. "No matter. His hands are bound, and he's armorless and weaponless. Whatever's hiding in the woods will kill him soon enough. Hadvar, continue."

"You..." Hadvar began. "Who are you?"

"My name is Tyradus."

"Tyranus? Aren't you a Vigilant? Yes, I met you in Markarth! You were investigating a Daedric cult!"

"My name is Tyradus, you damn fool!" He was getting agitated and impatient. The two day, sleepless carriage ride had taken its toll on his mood.

Hadvar grunted, checking the list again. "General, he isn't on here."

"To Oblivion with the list! He goes to the block! Come with me, prisoner!"

Tyradus followed the general, as he was told. He saw Tullius shouting at Ulfric.

"Ulfric Stormcloak..." General Tullius smirked. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But, a Hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne! You started this war! YOU plunged Skyrim into chaos! And now, the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace! Priestess, give them their last rites."

The priestess began speaking, "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the eight divines be upon you. May they watch over-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with!" One of the Stormcloaks shouted, stepping forward.

"As you wish..." The priestess seemed angry.

The Imperial general pushed the Stormcloak down. The headsman raised his axe.

_I need to wait for the right moment... _Tyradus thought._ Right now isn't that time. I cant risk saving that Stormcloak..._

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials!" The Stormcloak soldier shouted. "Can you say the same?!"

It ended with a loud chop. The general kicked the Stormcloak's body over. Blood flowed from the lifeless body.

"As fearless in death, as he was in life," Ralof whispered.

Shouts came from all around the block, from both Stormcloak and Imperial soldiers.

"**You Imperial bastards!**"

"**Death to the Stormcloaks!**"

"**Faithless dogs!**"

"**Justice is finally being brought to Skyrim!**"

"Next, I want _that _Nord!" The general shouted, glaring and pointing at Tyradus."

He stepped forward, to the block. He was reluctant, but he stooped down, and put his neck to the block.

_They can't even be bothered to clean up?_

The headsman raised his axe.

_Right now would be a good time to escape..._

"**Fus... RO DAH!**"

The force caused the headsman to fly back into a wall. Tyradus hopped up. He used his magic to create a fire and burn the leather bindings around his hands.

"The Voice!?" The general questioned as she drew her blade. Tyradus quickly turned and shot a gout of flames into her face.

"Argh!" The general grunted as she fell to one knee. "Soldiers! Kill him!"

Many Imperial soldiers surrounded him. The Stormcloaks watched the showdown in disbelief, Ulfric especially. Tyradus created a wall of flames around himself. The soldiers who had gotten too close already screamed and burned. The others stepped back. They began drawing bows to shoot through the fire.

"No you don't!" Tyradus shouted. He cast Ebony flesh and conjured a bound sword in his hand. He dispelled the wall of fire and began hacking at his aggressors. The Stormcloaks began cheering Tyradus on. The oncoming arrows hit Tyradus. Some simply bounced off, others cause little damage. Before the soldiers could unsheathe their blades, all was lost for them. Quickly, they had all been killed.

They were all down, but arrows kept flying. Tyradus noticed three Imperial soldiers atop of a tower, firing arrows from a distance. Their accuracy was horrible, and their fire was easy to dodge. Tyradus shot a single fireball at them which missed. It blew up part of the tower wall, causing it to collapse beneath them. They fell to their deaths.

The fight was over. The Stormcloak soldiers kept cheering.

Tyradus cut the binds of Ralof, Ulfric and a few other Stormcloak soldiers.

"Free the rest of them," Tyradus commanded. "The civilians fled into their homes when the fight started. You shouldn't have much trouble."

"Wait!" Ulfric shouted. "You! You have the Voice?"

"The Voice? What are you talking about?"

"Unrelenting Force! The Voice! Were you taught by the Greybeards, like I was?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've never spoken with the Greybeards, I don't know what the Voice is, and I sure as hell don't know why I'm wasting time talking to you! I have to leave, and that's what I'm doing. I'm looking for somebody important."

"How do you expect to find this person so quickly on foot?"

"I'm taking one of the Imperials' horses. They shouldn't be needing them anymore."

"Won't you at least need a map to know where you're going?"

"Finally! Some useful words out of you! I bet they have one somewhere around here. Let's just hope I didn't torch it."

Tyradus walked into one of the towers of Helgen. He grabbed a map off of a table, rolled it up and climbed onto one of the Imperials' saddled horses. "Oh, and by the way, you're welcome for saving you and your soldiers' lives.

Tyradus spurred the horse on. It ran with surprising speed.

_This must be one of the white horses, bred in Cyrodiil. The horses bred here in Skyrim are nowhere near as quick!_

_My first priority is to get far away from Helgen. If any more Imperial soldiers show up, the citizens might inform them that I was the one who ravaged the troop. I would get a bounty of more than 100,000 on my head! Then, I find Kh'aaru. We'll visit our family as planned, and then return to Cyrodiil._

_We agreed to meet in Riften, but there's no way in Oblivion that I could read a map._


	2. Lost

Chapter 2: Lost

Tyradus rode the white horse for more than eight long hours before stopping for the night. He opened a bag tied to the horse's saddle, grabbed the book inside and climbed off.

_Fredas, 17th of Last Seed_

_Just two days ago, I was wrongfully captured by the Imperial Legion while leaving Cyrodiil. I was mistaken to be with the Stormcloak rebels and sentenced to death. Just before I was executed, I used my... uh, special power to knock the headsman down, right before his axe came down on my throat. I used my magic to free myself and take down the Imperials that were trying to kill me. But, I think that the leader of Skyrim's division of the Legion, General Tullius, escaped, as I didn't see his body lying anywhere. It went better than it could have. I didn't want to destroy the legion, just to free myself. I freed all of the Stormcloak prisoners, including their leader, Ulfric Stormcloak and stole a horse to get to safety. I found this journal in a bag, tied to the horse's saddle. It apparently belonged to one of the Imperial soldiers. I just ripped out the pages of his journal. I ended up reading a few paragraphs for some reason. The soldier's life must be hard on them all. I've always envied the Imperial Legion's soldiers, but I'm beginning to rethink that._

_-Tyradus Free-Winter_

Tyradus closed the journal. He set it down beside him. Luckily, the horse also had a packed bed roll attached to its saddle. He laid out the bed roll, climbed inside and did his best to fall asleep.

After hours of falling in and out of a light sleep, Tyradus got up early the next morning, before the crack of dawn. His body felt half frozen. Even his Nord blood couldn't protect him from the frost of Skyrim. He had gotten used to the much warmer climate of Cyrodiil, and it was a hard transition going back home.

"Ugh! There's no way I can sleep outside. I need to find a town, or an Inn, at least. I guess I should just pack up and go. I won't last long out here."

Tyradus rolled up his sleeping bag and grabbed his new journal. He saw his horse was still sleeping.

"Wake up, horse!" Tyradus shouted. The horse, seeming perfectly content in such cold weather, opened its eyes and whinnied at him, standing up. Tyradus put his newly found journal in the bag that was still tied to the saddle. He reattached the bed roll, mounted the steed and spurred it on.

His horse went slower than it had the night before. It was still drowsy since it hadn't had time to wake up properly.

After two hours of riding, the sun had finally risen. Tyradus welcomed the warmth of the sun, compared to the deep cold of the night. He was relieved when he finally rode up into a small village.

"According to the signs, this must be Karthwasten..."

Tyradus rode up, and saw a group of people arguing. On one side was a Breton dressed in nice clothes, who was obviously outraged. Across was a group of armor-clad Nords. Their leader seemed much more calm than the Breton.

"Ainethach, why won't you just sell the damn mine?" The armored Nord in front asked. "The Silver-Bloods just want to protect it from the Forsworn, and they only ask a small fee for their services."

"I won't let you force me out of my village! Get out of my sight! Now!" The Breton shouted so loudly that the mercenaries backed up a few steps.

"The Silver-Bloods have given you a very generous offer for this pile of dirt. I suggest you take it. I'll give you some more time to think it over."

The mercenaries retreated into a mine, near the village.

"Damn snow-backs!" The Breton muttered to himself. He went back to a porch and sat down on a bench.

Tyradus dismounted his horse and approached the Breton.

"What exactly was that about?" Tyradus asked.

The Breton looked up. "Another Nord? Let me guess- you're trying to buy the mine to 'protect it from Forsworn?'"

"I'm just a lost traveler, Breton. A lost, hungry, tired traveler. I could just use some help."

"I've no time to help you, traveler. I've got problems of my own. I'm trying to keep my village safe. When the Forsworn aren't attacking us, the Nords are trying to force us off the land. I can't give up my home to them, but they're too persistent!"

"I've no idea what on Nirn you're talking about, but, look, maybe if you tell me, I can help you. I'll help you, then you can help me, okay?"

"I doubt you can do anything about it, traveler, but, I'll accept any possible help I can get. Here in the Reach, there's a huge market for silver, and an abundance of silver ore. I own one of the many sliver mines, which just happens to be right next to my small town. The most influential family in The Reach, the Silver-Bloods, have sent mercenaries to try and buy the mine. They obviously aren't taking no for an answer, either. When their leader said he'll give me 'more time to think about it,' he means 'Another two hours until they kill us all.' I don't want to leave my home. I need them gone."

"Well, that sounds easy enough. I know how to convince a sell-sword to do anything. Just give me a few minutes, and I can coax them away."

Tyradus entered the mine. It was much larger than he had expected, and had vasts amounts of silver deposits. He heard the mercenaries speaking in another room.

"I don't care about this stupid town!" Their leader shouted. "If that stubborn oaf won't sell, then we should just burn the village and kill them all!"

"Atar, the Silver-Bloods are paying us to get the full village. We're already getting paid little as it is. If we just destroy the place, I doubt we'll even get 100 Septims!"

Tyradus walked in. They were all sitting at a small table they had put out, drinking. He saw bottles of Black-Briar mead littering the floor around them.

"I want you all to leave this village alone," Tyradus stated. The mercenaries stared at him, expecting him to say more.

"And?" One mercenary asked.

"That's it. I want you to leave the Bretons alone and leave the village. Now."

"I'm not sacrificing a paycheck because some whelp told me to quit a job!" Atar shouted. "Now, I suggest you leave. Before this gets bloody. We'll have the village, one way or another."

"I don't know what those bloody-silver or whatever their name is people are paying you, but I can make this worth your while."

Tyradus took a small ring off of his finger and put it on the table. Atar picked it up.

"What is this?" Atar asked.

"My ring," Tyradus responded. "It's one of the only things that wasn't confiscated when I was arrested. It's a gold ring with a diamond setting. Easily worth 900 Septims, at least."

"Wow! This is twice as much as the Silver-Bloods were gonna pay us! Fine, we'll leave this stupid dirt pile and find other work. We'll be gone by midnight."

"Thank you," Tyradus said, turning to leave.

"Wait!" Atar shouted.

"What is it now?!"

"Why would you give us this if you don't even live here?"

"I couldn't care less about that thing. I stole it in Cyrodiil as a child. Now, I have to go."

He returned to Ainethach.

"The mercenaries are clearing out. Mission accomplished. Can you just tell me how in Oblivion I get to Whiterun now? I'm in a hurry."

"You actually got those Snow-backs to leave? Thank the Divi-"

"Look, Breton. I need to get to Whiterun. Quickly. I have something that needs to be taken care of. Can you just give me simple directions home?!"

"Alright, Nord. You just take that road straight until you see a fork in the road. Take the right path. It's just straight from there. Watch out for the Forsworn on your way."

"Okay, this has seriously been bothering me. Who are the Forsworn, and why must I watch out for them?"

"The Forsworn are a group of idiotic Bretons who think they can liberate the reach for High Rock. They attack anyone that doesn't join them. And since they're all Bretons, the Nords group us all together. The Nords think I'm working for the Forsworn, and the Forsworn think I'm working for the Nords. Everyone's out to get me these days."

"Good luck with that. Now, I have to go. Be seeing you, Aine... tack?"

Tyradus mounted the Imperial horse and rode off, on his way to Whiterun.

After an hour of dreadfully boring riding, Tyradus had nearly made it out of the Reach. His horse trotted along the trail. Tyradus was half asleep. That's when his horse began to buck, and threw him off. Tyradus slammed onto the ground. He had trouble sitting up to see what had happened. His horse was on the ground, with a wooden arrow through its neck. It had died. He heard a voice in the distance.

"Filthy Nord. Prepare to die!"

His head jerked in the voice's direction. A man, dressed in fur armor, with an animal's head as a helmet had his bow loaded with an arrow, ready to fire. He let go of the string. The arrow struck Tyradus in the shoulder.

_Damn! _Tyradus thought. _I'm not ready for battle! I have to get out of here somehow! Wait- Illusion!_

Tyradus was now surrounded by the Forsworn warriors. They all had weapons drawn.

"Stand, Nord! And face your death!"

Tyradus stood, and readied his spell. The Forsworn rushed to him and began to swing their weapons. Before they could land a single hit, Tyradus cast the Harmony spell.

Every Forsworn warrior stopped in their tracks.

"What's going on?" One asked.

"Who are you?" A woman pointed at Tyradus.

"That's not important now, Breton. What IS important is that the spell won't last long, and I need to get out of here!"

Tyradus cast his invisibility spell and ran off. The Forsworn regained their memory within 30 seconds. By then, Tyradus was far enough so that they had no clue he was even near.

_Ah, Illusion. My favorite school of magic, other than restoration, at least._

It took nearly three hours on foot, but after a long journey, the town finally came into sight.

"By the Nine..." Tyradus whispered to himself. "That's it! Dragonsreach! I've nearly made it home! After ten years, I'm finally going to see my family again!"

A new sense of hope filled his body. Ever since he had crossed the border into Skyrim, nothing good had happened. This made it all better. He continued on his journey toward home.

After another two hours, Tyradus had finally made it. He approached the gate into the city, or as far as he was concerned, the gate into his childhood.

"Halt," The guard at the gate commanded. Tyradus recognized the guard instantly, as he didn't wear a helmet. "What business do you have in Whiterun? If you're an Imperial or Stormcloak soldier, the Jarl isn't interested in any of your offers."

"Do I look like a soldier to you, Fjori?" Tyradus asked sarcastically. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm that kid you busted nearly 14 years ago for stealing a Sweetroll from Ysolda."

"Doesn't ring a bell, citizen. I've no idea what you're talking about."

"After that, you gave me a four-hour lecture on how many ways a guard could kill me for stealing."

"Wait a minute... Tyradus? Tyradus Free-Winter?! Stendarr's mercy, I haven't seen you in over a decade! Eager to see your family again, I presume?"

"You presume correctly, Fjori. Now, can you just let me in?! I'm starving!"

"Go on in, Tyradus. Hey, how about you meet me at the Bannered Mare around ten tonight, after my shift's over? We could have a few drinks, and catch up."

"I'll be there, Fjori. Thanks."

Tyradus knocked on the door to his old house, breezehome. A large, gray-haired man answered.

"Engar Free-Winter?" Tyradus asked. "A member of the Companions?"

"That's correct. Who are you?" The man asked. He scratched his big, dirty beard.

"It's me, father! Your son, Tyradus!"

"T- Tyradus? I can't believe it's you! It's been more than-"

"Yes, yes, a decade. I know, father. May I come in now?"

"Of course, son. Have a seat. Malene! Aeta! Tyradus is home!"

"Tyradus? Is he really here?" Tyradus's mother, Malene came rushing into the room. "By the gods! It really is you, son! It's been much to long since we've spoken!"

"Mother, I wrote you a letter at least once a week. Wasn't that enough for you?"

Before Malene had time to answer, Tyradus's 15-year old sister, Aeta walked in.

"So, this is Tyradus?" She asked. "My big brother?! Is it true you killed three wolves all by yourself when you were five?"

Tyradus scoffed, "That's right. I did it with father's old steel dagger. I did earn a few scars on the arm, though."

"Wait!" Engar shouted. "Where is Kh'aaru? Shouldn't he be with you?"

"Well, that's the thing, father... It's a long story, but I guess now's a good time to tell it. Before we crossed the border, Kh'aaru decided to take a different route, so he wouldn't be hassled by the guards at the gates for being a Khajiit. I got over pretty easily, until I was ambushed by Imperial guards. They thought I was traveling with a group of Stormcloak soldiers and sentenced me to death along with the ones they caught. I had to... kill all of the Imperial guards. I freed all of the Stormcloaks they had captured, including their leader, Ulfric. I stole an Imperial horse that got killed on the way, and now I'm here. Kh'aaru agreed to meet me in Riften once I made it past the gates, but I'm so late that he's probably left by now."

Engar sighed, "I knew there would come a day when Skyrim's problems would find you two as well. I don't care who wins this war, honestly. I just want this damn civil conflict to end! I would join a side, but I'm just getting too old."

"It's fine, father. This will end, eventually. Let's just drop the subject for now. If Kh'aaru waits too long, he'll probably come home. For now, let's just have dinner."

Malene and Aeta set out dinner for everyone.

"It looks great!" Tyradus said as he sat down. "Hey, uh, pass me the grilled leeks. And, the baked potatoes. Oh, and, uh, how about some of the venison stew? Hey, are those sweet rolls?"

When dinner eventually ended, everyone was still hungry, other than Tyradus.

"Thank you, everyone!" Tyradus stated, standing up. "But, I have to get to the Bannered mare. Fjori and I were going to catch up over a few drinks."

Tyradus walked out the door.

"Sometimes I wonder how he can be so relaxed," Engar said, confused. "Especially with blood like ours..."

"What do you mean 'blood like ours?'" Malene asked.

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Malene."

Aeta was utterly confused on what was going on.


	3. Origins

Zu'u Dovahkiin Do Zoor!

Origins

When Tyradus entered the Bannered Mare, he immediately recognized everything. It was exactly the same as when he was a child. The same seats, the same people, (Well, they were a lot younger during his childhood) and even the same bartender.

"Hey, Hulda!" Tyradus greeted happily.

"Tyradus? Tyradus, is that you?"

"That's right, Hulda. How did you know?"

"Your father talks about you all the time. He comes here when he's kicked out of Jorrvaskr for being too drunk. According to how he's described you, you look the same as when you were a teenager."

"They say you have to be able to drink more than a god to be kicked out of Jorrvaskr! I knew the man could put some mead away, but that's just...wow. Well, anyway, have you seen Fjori? We were supposed to meet here for drinks."

"No, I haven't seen him, but word is that Caius has most of the guards working overnight. He apparently sent some troops to Riverwood for some reason."

"Damn. I guess we'll have to catch up some other time, then."

"So, Tyradus, how was it in Cyrodiil?"

"Not so great with the Thalmor running around. I was lucky to be able to keep my Amulet of Talos hidden."

"So, why didn't you ever come to visit before?"

"I did try, about four years ago. But, I ended up getting caught up in business with the College of Winterhold, and ended up studying magic there for a while."

"Damn mages!" An armored woman in the corner shouted. "Why can't you stay up in the college and stop polluting the rest of Skyrim with your nonsense?"

"What are you talking about polluting?" Tyradus asked. "Magic is a great art. Very reliable in almost any situation."

"A true Nord trusts in his own strength against his super powers. Magic is all smoke and mirrors. Why don't you just get out of the bar, you milk drinker?"

"I can trust in my own strength. My sword arm is just as powerful as my magic!"

"You willing to bet on that, wizard?" She shouted as she stood.

"You want to fight me?" Tyradus stood as well.

"100 gold says that I knock your hide to the ground. Fists only. No weapons, no magic, no crying!"

"You got a deal!"

They both set 100 Septims on the bar counter.

"You ready?" She shouted, raising her fists.

"Come at me!" Tyradus raised his own.

The woman, without warning, threw the first punch and nailed Tyradus right in the stomach. Her steel glove caused him immense pain and made him queasy.

_She's wearing gauntlets? I didn't even notice...! I'll have to cast oak-flesh on myself to get through this, but I'll have to hide it._

"Come on, Tyradus! Beat her down!" Hulda shouted.

"Come on, Uthgerd! Kill this weakling!" Sinmir yelled over her.

Tyradus put one hand behind his back and cast the spell quickly. He threw a punch into the woman's face.

"Agh!"

_This idiot's fist feels like a damn tree! For a wizard, he can sure throw a punch! I guess it isn't the time to go easy on him, weakling or not!_

She threw another punch, aimed at his face. Tyradus moved his head just far enough to dodge the attack. He swung his foot forward and kicked her in the stomach. She stumbled backwards all the way to the wall and hit the back of her head. It nearly knocked her out.

"Ugh!" She groaned. "You... got me. I give in."

"I've never seen Uthgerd get beaten before..." Mikael mumbled. Sinmir grunted and took another drink.

"I knew the son of a Companion would win any fight!" Hulda cheered.

"I think I've earned that gold!" Tyradus smugly shouted.

"I guess you may be stronger than I imagined. Fine. Here's your damn money."

Tyradus sat down. Uthgerd sat next to him.

"So, wizard, what's your story?" She asked.

"What do you mean 'story?'"

"I mean how did you end up the way you did? Every Nord has a story."

"So, now that I beat you in a brawl, you suddenly want to be my friend?"

"I don't want to be your friend, exactly, but I respect anyone that's strong enough to take me down. Now, just tell me what I wanted to know."

"Where should I start? The beginning, the middle or the end?"

"The beginning, I guess."

"Okay, okay... Long ago, the divines created this planet, and with it, created its first inhabita-"

"Not that early, idiot! I mean your life!"

"Sorry, I guess us mages are more accustomed to storytelling than others. Just to warn you, this will be long.

Anyway, I was born here in Whiterun, back in 176. My father, Engar, wasn't around much during my childhood, being a Companion. So, it was my mother Malene who took care of me most of the time. She would take me anywhere she went. And, shopping was her favorite thing to do.

Once, when I was about six years old, she heard that a Khajiit caravan had set up camp outside of the city. She took me with her to trade with them. It turns out that one of the Khajiit had a child, the same age as me, named Kh'aaru.

We just started playing together, according to my mother. We went out there for the next five days just so I could play with him, until the Khajiit had to move to another hold. Neither of us wanted them to leave, but it was inevitable. But, apparently, Kh'aaru's mother didn't want him to live his life like they did, constantly moving through harsh terrains across Skyrim. She asked my mother to take Kh'aaru in. They agreed, and we had a new family member. My father was enraged when he got home that day, saying that 'a true Nord doesn't mix with other races,' but he eventually stopped complaining about it. He didn't get used to Kh'aaru for years, though.

Once we had both hit nine, my mother finally let me and Kh'aaru go out by ourselves and do whatever we please. She always warned us about stealing, but we ignored her. We got into trouble a lot, and usually got caught by a guard.

Eventually, we outgrew that when we started spending more time with my father. The older he got, the less jobs he was going on for the Companions. When he told us stories about battling bandits and giants, I guess we began to idolize him. My uncle Brunwulf also came around every once in a while, telling us stories about his battles in the Great War.

We stopped being thieves, and eventually they began calling us 'true, honorable Nords.' Both my father and my uncle finally accepted Kh'aaru as part of our family.

But, when the Battle-Born family heard of our trickery, they began criticizing my family for raising thieves. Olfrid and his son, Idolaf, were the worst. Jon had always been a friend of ours, so he usually got them to stop. But, when Jon wasn't around, the torment seemed endless.

When we turned 15, I decided that Kh'aaru and I were old enough to make our own decisions. We wanted to move away, to where we could avoid all of the judgement. Unfortunately, since my father is a Companion, many people had heard of us and our thievery. The only way to escape it all was to move to Cyrodiil.

Unfortunately, our lives in Cyrodiil weren't much better. When we first tried to leave Skyrim, three Thalmor soldiers were standing at the border gate. They said they had to check our bags 'for stolen or illegal items,' but they just confiscated everything we had brought with us. It's because I'm a Nord, I'm sure. But, without supplies, I couldn't make it to the Imperial city for months. We had to find ways to make money in Bruma, then went to Chorrol. After that, Skingrad. Finally, we had made it to the Imperial city.

The first 2 years weren't easy. Once again, we had to resort to thievery to get by. Luckily, the guards in Cyrodiil were very easy to get away from, without them even figuring out our identity.

After the first few years, we were finally at the age where we were able to get jobs. Kh'aaru got a job at the Black Horse Courier and I was old enough to join the Fighters' guild. Things were still hard, though. With the Thalmor constantly tormenting both of us, even robbing us a few times, they nearly had us starved to death. We never could afford a house, we just had a permanent residence in one of the rooms at the King and Queen tavern.

I finally got a taste of justice when I was 18. I was at the inn, and one of the Aldmeri soldiers walked in. He threw a few racial slurs at me, but I just ignored him. That's when he told me that the Dominion planned on wiping out all Nords.

I shouted something I shouldn't have, and he pulled a dagger on me. He stabbed my arm. I ended up killing him by stabbing through his chest with my sword. The Dominion tried to have me arrested, but all of the witnesses claimed that he had attacked me first and it was in self-defense."

"Well, it _was _in self-defense, right?" Hulda asked. Neither Tyradus nor Uthgerd had noticed that she was listening in the whole time.

"It's not entirely true. Luckily, the witnesses left out the part where I knocked him out cold. That's when I had a chance to tell the guards.

But, I was tired of the Thalmor pushing me around. I poured mead on his face to wake him up. Before he could stand to retaliate, I grabbed him and pulled him up by the arm. I shoved him into the wall. He was still disoriented, and didn't have the sense to move. I had just enough time to rush at him and drive my blade straight through his chest. I ended up stabbing a hole through the wall behind him, too. If the witnesses hadn't left that out, I'd probably be in prison right now."

"Now, that's the way a Nord finishes his enemies!" Uthgerd shouted.

"It was the first time I felt like a true Nord. I've no idea why, but just the smell of fresh elf blood filled me with pride.

Everything was better after that. Word got around that I had killed him. I saw quite a few people gathered around the tavern, just staring at the blood covered hole in the wall. Most of the Thalmor soldiers backed off after that.

Finally, I decided to come visit my family after nearly six years. Kh'aaru said he would stay behind and work so we could keep our room at the tavern.

This time, I got across the border a lot more easily. The Thalmor soldiers stay on Skyrim's side of the gate, only watching out for people coming into Cyrodiil, not exiting. I snuck up to the gate, and quietly scaled the wall. Once I was on top of the gate, I drew my blade. I jumped down in front of one of the elves and blindly slashed. I ended up cutting his head clean off. The other began throwing spells at me. I just knocked her out with a few slashes to the limbs and a kick to the face. I made sure to get out of there quickly.

I thought about stopping in Riften to gather supplies, but I thought that I could get to Whiterun soon enough so I wouldn't need any extra things. I just kept on.

I was barely out of the Rift when I heard a few men shouting. I ignored it at first, but then two Orcs rushed at me with warhammers in their hands. I turned around, just to find myself surrounded by at least five other Orcish bandits. I thought I was finished.

Just before they struck me, a flurry of fireballs shot out from the bushes. They were all perfectly-aimed. They took out all of the Orcs without even coming close to me. After they were all subdued, a Dunmer mage came out of the bushes. He told me his name was Savos Aren, and he was the Arch-Mage at the College of Winterhold. I'm not exactly sure how, but he eventually talked me into becoming a student at the College.

My time there was actually quite fun. When I first arrived, I met three other new students. There was J'zargo, an annoying Khajiit, Onmund, another Nord, and Brelyna, a Dunmer. We learned a few protection spells, then were left to study on our own. Brelyna and I were both fairly interested in Conjuration, so we spent most of our time studying togeth-"

"Look, I don't need to know what goes on at your college!" Uthgerd butted in. "Just skip that part."

"Ugh. Fine. I stayed there for three years, and had totally mastered a few schools. Afterward, I went back to Cyrodiil. Kh'aaru was doing quite well. I stayed for another year, before deciding that I finally wanted to move back to Skyrim.

We just packed up and left without giving it much thought. We decided that we didn't want to deal with the guards at the border, so Kh'aaru decided to sneak over the border at a different point with all of our things and meet me in Riften.

When I went through the gate, there were no Thalmor soldiers, not even an Imperial. But, as I slowly made my way through the woods, I was ambushed by Imperial soldiers, who I was a Stormcloak. I... er... Escaped, and eventually found my way here. I still have no idea where Kh'aaru is."

"Quite a tale..." Hulda said.


	4. Secret

Zu'u Dovahkiin Do Zoor!

Secret

Tyradus woke up the next morning, a bit hung over from the night before. He realized he was still at the Bannered Mare, not at home. He climbed down the stairs, still baggy-eyed and tired.

"Thanks for the room, Hulda," Tyradus yawned. "Did I forget to pay you last night?"

"You paid for the drinks, but I won't charge you for the room. It's not like you didn't give me plenty of business last night!" Hulda laughed.

"Oh, uh... thanks, then..."

He lazily pushed open the door and stumbled down the stairs into the plains district. After bumping into a few people, he knocked on the door to Breezehome.

Engar answered it.

"Ah, Tyradus!" Engar exclaimed. "Did you get too drunk to come home or something? I waited for you half the night!"

"Father, I'm not sure HOW drunk I was. All I remember is telling a story and then waking up. This headache is unbearable."

"Well, you must've been quite buzzed to forget half the night. Malene and Aeta are still asleep at the moment. If the hangover is really that bad, I suggest you get some more sleep as well."

"I don't need any more sleep, but could I borrow about thirty gold? I figure that I could just go to Arcadia's Cauldron and get myself a healing potion."

"Well, fine. I guess I have some gold to spare."

Engar handed Tyradus the gold he needed. When Tyradus entered Arcadia's store, a disgusting odor lingered in the air.

"Ugh! What is that?" Tyradus shouted.

"I spilled one of my potions," Arcadia grumbled, standing next to her alchemy lab. "I guess it doesn't help that I added too many Namira Rot mushrooms. It's way too acidic!"

"Pour some frost salts over the spilled potion. It'll freeze it, stop it from dissolving anything and stop it from smelling like that!"

Arcadia did as Tyradus had suggested.

"Well, it cost me some valuable frost salts, but at least it didn't destroy the whole store. Thanks, er..."

"Tyradus. Tyradus Free-Winter."

"Well, thank you, Tyradus. What are you here for?"

"I was just wondering if you had any healing potions in stock. Just the small ones for minor injuries, not the larger ones."

"Well, I only have a few left. That'll be fifty Septims."

"Damn, I've only got thirty. Well, how about you just give me some wheat and Blisterwort?"

"You got lucky. Thirty Septims exactly! If you need to use my alchemy lab, go ahead."

"Thanks, Arcadia."

Tyradus mixed the ingredients together and bottled his potion. He thanked Arcadia once more and left.

"I hope I used enough wheat," Tyradus mumbled to himself. "Ugh, these potions always taste horrible. Well, down the hatch..."

Tyradus popped the cork out of the bottle and chugged it down as quickly as he could.

"Well, at least it got rid of the headache. Thank Talos!"

He popped the cork back in and put the empty bottle in a small pouch attached to his belt. He began walking home.

"I'm not sure why, but I feel like something's missing... Kh'aaru! Kh'aaru isn't here! How could I have forgotten? I need to find him. I guess I should head to Riften, but Divines know I have no clue how to get there. I guess I should ask dad. He'd probably know how to read a map."

Tyradus barged into Breezehome.

"Dad!" He shouted.

"They aren't here, brother." Aeta said as she walked into the living room. "Dad's at Jorrvaskr and Mom's out shopping. Why do you need them?"

"Well, I'm trying to get to Riften to find Kh'aaru, but I can't read a map. I'd need Dad's help."

"Kh'aaru? You mean your Khajiit friend?"

"Yes, Aeta. Sorry, but I don't have any time to talk right now. You said Dad's at Jorrvaskr, right? Then I guess that's where I'm headed."

"Well, fine. I guess I can wait to talk."

"Good, I'm off- wait, why do you want to talk so badly?"

"Well, I don't know. It's just because Mom and Dad are so boring. I've tried talking to the other kids, but Braith is so self-centered and annoying, That Battle-Born kid is wimpy and Mila is always working with her mother. I have absolutely nothing to do all day, and it really gets annoying."

"Well, sorry about that, Aeta. After I find Kh'aaru and get everything worked out, I'll come visit again."

Aeta sighed as Tyradus rushed out the door.

As Tyradus walked up the stairs into the Wind district, he noticed the huge tree in the middle had begun to wilt.

"That tree..." Tyradus mumbled. "Gildergreen, was it? It used to always be in full bloom, but now it's just... Damn. I can't forget my goal here. I need to find Kh'aaru as quickly as possible."

Tyradus opened the door to Jorrvaskr and took a look inside.

_Wow, this place is a lot smaller than I ever expected. How could every one of the Companions live here? Oh, now I remember. Dad said that there's a lower floor with beds and stuff in it..._

Tyradus walked up to the table, where his father was talking to another Companion.

"I don't think I can just tell him, Skjor." Engar whispered.

"He's your son," Skjor replied. "It affects your daughter as well. And, your wife doesn't even know! You can't just keep such a huge secret from them. They should at least know not to look forward to Sovnga-"

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" Tyradus asked. Hearing them talking like that had made him suspicious. "And why are you being so secretive about it?"

"Agh! Tyradus!" Engar turned around quickly. "Er... We were just, uh, talking about... well, that doesn't matter!"

"Why are you acting so nervous, then? What about you, Skjor? Got anything to say?"

"I'm staying out of this one!" Skjor scoffed, taking a drink of mead.

"Son, it isn't important. What did you come here for, anyway?"

"Fine. I'll leave it alone for now. I'm just here because I need you to give me simple directions to Riften. I need to find Kh'aaru, and I can't read a map."

"Damn it, boy! After an entire decade, you still can't find your way around using a map? I raised you to be smarter than that! Even a child should know how to properly use one!"

"Kh'aaru was usually the guide for me. Just tell me which road to take! Time is against me on this one! If anything happens to him, do you know how horrible I would feel about it?"

"Well, I couldn't imagine losing a son. Come with me. I'll point you in the right direction."

Engar led Tyradus out of Jorrvaskr and down the stairs back into the plains district. Tyradus was still curious about what he and Skjor were conversing about.

_He said it affected both Aeta and I, and that Mother had no idea about it. If it wasn't something that important, he wouldn't be trying so hard to hide the secret from me! It must have something to do with the Companions. He seems to share knowledge about whatever it is with them and ONLY them._

Engar noticed the confused and angry look on his son's face.

_He must be pondering the secret. I wish I had the guts to tell him the truth, or at least Malene. Keeping such a huge secret from my entire family is one thing, but depriving them of the afterlife I've told them of since they were children is unacceptable. I know that even if I don't tell him, that he will one day hear the call of the Blood. When that happens, without the ability to control himself in such a state... He will attack anything in sight, eventually being killed himself. I couldn't live with myself if I let that happen... I'll just point him in the direction to Riften now. And while he's gone, I'll gather up the courage to tell him._

"Wait!" Engar shouted.

"What?" Tyradus quickly stopped. "What is it?"

"Tyradus, you can't just expect to get all the way to Riften without any trouble. Before you go, you'll need supplies. Armor and a weapon or two."

"I guess armor would be useful, but my magic is enough of a weapon for me, Father."

"Just buy a weapon. Just in case. Your magic power runs out if you use it too much at one time, right? Bring a sword or axe in case that happens. That way, you're guaranteed to make it back here safely!"

"I don't see why you're being so paranoid about this. It doesn't matter, anyway. I spent all my gold at the Bannered Mare last night."

"Fine, son. Here's 500 Septims. Go see Elrindir at the Drunken Huntsman for armor, and Adrianne Avenicci's forge for a weapon."

Engar reached into his pocket and grabbed the money. Tyradus took it and stored it in his pouch.

_I guess it's off to the Drunken Huntsman. Father's beginning to act even more suspicious. Why is he so worried about me?_

He walked into the Drunken Huntsman and saw a Bosmer man tending the counter.

"Hello," Tyradus greeted. "I assume you're Elrindir?"

"Oh, no. I'm his brother, Anoriath. Elrindir is pretty sick today, so I'm taking care of the shop."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I was just looking for some armor."

"Are there any preferences I should know about? Like... light armor or heavier armor?"

"Heavy armor, like iron or steel. But, it needs to be relatively cheap."

"Well, I've got quite a deal for you! An entire set of ebony armor, for as little as 900 Septims!"

"That's much too hefty a price. Do you have anything else?"

"How about a set of Orcish armor? Only 500!"

"A little lower?"

"Well, Elrindir would kill me if he knew I was selling to you at such a low price... But, I've got a set of steel plate armor. Only 200 Septims!"

"Now, that's reasonable!" Tyradus put his payment on the counter. Anoriath set the armor on the counter. "Thank you, Anoriath."

Tyradus took the armor back to his house.

"Found yourself a nice pair of armor, I see?" Engar asked. "That must've been quite expensive!"

"It was only two hundred, surprisingly. Anoriath gave me quite a deal on it. I'm going to go get a weapon now. I would've gotten it sooner, but that armor is quite a load to carry..."

"You'd better hurry. It's getting late. Avenicci will probably be closing up soon."

Tyradus made his way over to the town blacksmith. Adrianne was just cleaning up her leftover ingots for the day.

"Oh, a customer?" She asked. "Well, I don't have much of a selection right now, but what is it you needed?"

"I just need a sturdy sword."

"Well, my weapon selection is all sold out. All I have left is that glass blade over there. It's pretty sturdy, guaranteed not to break. Only fifty Septims. I've been trying to sell that thing for weeks, but nobody assumes that it'll break just because it's glass."

"Well, I guess I'll take that!"

Tyradus paid Adrianne and grabbed his new weapon.

"Well, It's getting late. I guess I'll head out tomorrow. I guess I'll just get a room at the Bannered Mare for the night.

He dropped the sword off at his house and paid for his room at the inn. Before going to sleep, he grabbed his journal.

_Sundas, 19th of Last Seed_

_I made it home yesterday. I visited my family and got reacquainted with a few old friends. I'm going to Riften in an attempt to find Kh'aaru tomorrow. Everything is going fine, except for the fact that Father is obviously trying to hide something from me. I walked into Jorrvaskr earlier, and I heard him talking to another Companion. This Companion, named Skjor, apparently knows all about it. He said it affects both me and Aeta, and that Mother has no idea about it. Then, he began acting completely paranoid. I tried to leave to Riften earlier. He said that I needed armor and a weapon. He said he was worried about me. I don't understand it at all. He let Kh'aaru and I leave to Cyrodiil without a word, knowing that we'd be gone for years. Now he's afraid about what might happen to me on a two or three day trip to another part of Skyrim. I'm not sure what's going on with him, or the secret he's keeping, but I plan on finding out. Soon. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

**I'm really sorry that it's taken so long to get this chapter out. It's just been an unholy combination of writer's block, laptop errors and school's beginning for me. This chapter may not be too good, due to my rush to get it out once my laptop was finally fixed. The next chapter will be much better and longer than this one, I promise. And yes, all of the words in the Dragon and/or Daedric languages are actual words in those languages.**

_Sivaas sos... Grohiik... Kriier..._

"What is that?!" Tyradus had no idea where he was. "Wha... What's going on?! Where am I and... how did I get here?"

There was nothing but trees, bushes and grass around him. He was trapped inside a small patch of dirt, surrounded by huge plants.

_**ALOK, SIVAAS, AHRK KRII PAH!**_

The trees all spontaneously caught fire, all at once.

"What in Oblivion...!?" Tyradus shouted to himself. "What's going on!? I- I'm blocked in here!"

Sweat poured over Tyradus's face. In great desperation, he attempted to cast the Blizzard spell. His magic failed. He couldn't even cast a simple Frostbite spell!

"My Magic is useless..." Tyradus gasped for breath. "The smoke is too... thick..." He coughed and gasped as he fell to the ground. A beastly howl was the final thing he heard as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Tyradus jolted upward, gasping for breath. He was still in his bed at the Bannered Mare. The sheet was covered in sweat.

"What the hell was that?!" Tyradus quietly exclaimed.

Unknown words still rang in his head...

_Alok Sivaas..._

It seemed as if these words were uttered by an evil beast. Tyradus just sat for a few minutes, rubbing the sweat from his face. Finally, as the echoing voice faded, another came into his mind.

_BEDT EKEM AYEM SEHT TAYEM! MEHT YAHKEM... CESS HEKEM IYA LYR DOHT!_

"Who is doing this?!"

Both of the voices spoke at once.

_**Kul do Akatosh! Drog do Dovah!**_

_HEKEM IYA ROHT CESS IYA NEHT EKEM!_

_**Daedra kulaan! Oblaan Daar!**_

It all suddenly stopped. The voices silenced. The only thing Tyradus could hear was his own heavy breath and rapid heartbeat.

He couldn't take it. He was too exhausted, both physically and mentally. He passed out, right back onto his sweat-covered bed.

He awoke hours later, to find that the sun had finally risen. Beams of light shone into his room from cracks in the ceiling.

"Ugh..." His head pounded. "What in Oblivion happened last night? Maybe... maybe Father could help me figure this out. He knows people all around Skyrim. He must be able to point me in the right direction to someone who can help."

He slowly made his way home, his head still throbbing.

"Father?" He groaned as he walked inside.

Engar was cooking breakfast when he saw Tyradus. "Son? Are you sick?"

"Something has been happening to me, father...Voices in my dreams, fires burning in my head..."

"Voices? What kind of voices are you talking about?"

"Two, father... The one I can remember said... _Hekem Iya Roht Cess Iya Neht Ekem... _The other was just... total gibberish."

_Hekem Iya Roht...? _Engar was deep in thought. _That sounds... Daedric._

"I don't know what that is, but I know somebody who might... Come with me to Jorrvaskr, Tyradus. We will figure this out."

"Athis!" Engar shouted as he barged into Jorrvaskr.

"What is it now, Engar? Did somebody take your special mead again?" The elf pushed back the last of his drink. "Because that was Njada."

"That isn't why I'm here, Athis. I need you to help Tyradus with something."

"Your kid? Okay. What is it that you need help with, Tyradus?"

"I don't know why my father brought me to you, but I've been hearing strange voices in my sleep."

"Well, I'll at least need to know what it said. I'm not a mind reader."

"It said... _Hekem Iya Roht Cess Iya Neht Ekem. _I have no idea what that means, but I'm hoping you would."

"Engar, you knew what that was!" Athis accused.

"What are you saying?" Tyradus was confused.

"He told you what he heard and you knew it was Daedric. So that's why you came to the closest Dunmer you could find."

"Yes, I knew it was Daedric, but what does that have to do with anything? I couldn't decipher it."

"So, you just assume that all of us Dunmer know the Daedric language?"

"Well, you obviously did. I don't understand why you're acting offended, Athis."

"Ugh. Stereotyping Nords... Whatever. The Daedric language uses an entire word just to say a letter. It's easy to tell what it was trying to say by the sound that comes first in the letter. For instance, _Bedt _would be a B. The voice was saying Hircine. All I know about that, is that he's one of the Daedric princes. It's probably not worth getting worked up over. All Daedra love screwing around with mortals... With the exception of Lady Azura, of course."

_Hircine? Now that damn beast is trying to contact my son? The call must be closer than I thought. Hircine finally recognizes Tyradus's power to be enough to become a beast. I don't know what to do... He's in no position to control it. Unfortunately, there's no way I could prevent him from trying to find Kh'aaru now. I just need to make him leave as quickly as possible, and hope he gets back with Kh'aaru soon without much trouble on the way._

"Well, I guess we should take Athis's word for it. Come, Tyradus. We will go home and I'll help you get prepared for your trip to Riften. I'm eager to see my other son again."

_There's no way a Daedric prince would just contact me like that for no reason. And the second voice sounded even more sinister. I guess I don't have much of a choice on what to do now, though. By the Nine, I have to find Kh'aaru._

They each headed to Breezehome. Luckily, Malene and Aeta were out shopping, so they weren't a bother. Tyradus donned his steel-plated armor, and equipped his glass blade.

"I guess it's time to head out, son."

"Yes, it is. Don't you worry about me. I'll return by the end of the 22nd, with Kh'aaru alongside me."

"Have a safe trip, Tyradus."

"Thank you, father."

As Tyradus walked out of Whiterun, he ran into Fjori, still on duty.

"Oh, hail, Tyradus!" He shouted from atop one of the guard towers. He still wasn't wearing his helmet. "You heading out already?"

"Aye, I'm going to find my brother. I haven't seen him since I escaped from the- never mind. You don't need to know about that... I haven't seen him for a few days, and I'm starting to get worried. I told him to meet me in Riften, so that's where I'm headed."

"Alright, then. Have a safe trip. And sorry that I couldn't meet up with you the other night. Caius has me working days and nights... says he's worried."

"About what?"

"He said that he's been hearing rumors of werewolves running around, lately. He told us he's been hearing strange howling at night, and to be on our guard at all times."

"Sounds like he's on Skooma."

"Well, his family _has _been known for that. Well, I shouldn't keep you. You have things to do."

"Thank you, Fjori."


	6. No Control

Chapter 6: No Control

The road was merciless on Tyradus. The steel boots were giving his feet blisters, his helmet denied him nearly any oxygen, and wolves attacked every few minutes. Bite marks and sweat covered Tyradus's face. He was exhausted, but he knew that he couldn't stop. He would never forgive himself if something happened to his brother.

Something was wrong with him, and he knew it. His ears were ringing, his body felt like lead and his head spun. Still, he trudged on, almost unaware of his surroundings. His senses had dulled, yet he felt completely alert. He barely saw the road in front of him, yet nothing escaped his eye.

Tyradus stopped immediately, without even realizing it. He felt as if his body was taking commands from somebody else. He unwillingly drew his blade. The Nord was confused, but he did nothing to fight it. He turned and his arm swung horizontally. He felt and heard the tearing of flesh.

His senses returned to him, all at once. It took him completely off-guard. He let out a quick gasp before looking down in front of him. There lay the corpse of a Wood Elf. He was dressed in brown leather armor, and had a glass dagger drawn. It took Tyradus a moment to realize that the elf's head was severed from his body.

"What the hell just happened!?" Tyradus exclaimed quietly. "He must have been trying to assassinate me... but how did I know he was there? What made me attack!? Damn it, what's happening to me?!"

A voice rang in his head.

_**A Dovah fen dreh naan thing wah protect nimaar.**_

"For Stendarr's sake, Aldaril, where are we?!" The Thalmor woman was growing impatient with her comrades.

"Stay off my back, Nerussa. Judging by the terrain, we're probably somewhere in the Rift. What do you think, Carandial?" He looked back. "Huh? Carandial?" The justiciar was nowhere to be found.

"Damned fool," Nerussa muttered. "He probably found some flowers he wanted to examine. The idiot's taken up quite an interest in alchemy. Let's go find him."

"When we do, I'm setting his ass on fire!"

The Thalmor agents began back the way they came. They found their friend, but it was too late for him. His body lay on the ground.

"What could have happened!?" Aldaril shouted. "He doesn't have any injuries!" He turned to look at Nerussa. "Who or what could ha-"

He gasped. A hooded Khajiit, dressed in white robes, stood over Nerussa's body. A dagger hung from his sleeve, barely visible. Blood dripped from the small blade.

"You fools should have stayed in the Summerset Isles!" The Khajiit shouted.

Aldaril readied a Fireball spell.

"And maybe you should've stayed in Elsewyr!" He shut his eyes as he threw the spell forward. He didn't hear contact. Only a distant explosion. He opened one eye.

"Where'd the bastard cat go?!"

"Keep your eye on the target."

"Huh?! Whe-" The elf fell with a thud. The Khajiit assassin wiped the blood off of his dagger. "Thalmor bastards."

One good thing came from the dead Bosmer. He had carried a steel shield, the one piece of armor that Tyradus hadn't gotten. He knew that a shield was the best armor. He still trudged on, determined to reach Riften without rest.

"Must be a bandit!"

Tyradus halted. The faint voice came from above him, there was no denying that.

"What was that?" Tyradus gazed at the sky, looking for movement. There was none... until the hooded fighter leapt from a tree, his dagger pointed straight at Tyradus.

The Nord raised his new shield, which the Khajiit landed directly on top of.

"A quick one!" The Khajiit shouted as he pushed off the shield and onto the ground. Tyradus drew his weapon. The Khajiit clutched his dagger. As the Khajiit charged, Tyradus blocked the blow once more and swung at him. The assassin ducked under the blow, and tackled Tyradus to the ground. He held the dagger to the Nord's throat.

"Any last words?" The Khajiit was certain of victory.

"Only three. **FUS RO DAH**!"

The Khajiit screamed as he flew backward, but he had kept enough composure to break his fall with his arms.

The assassin gasped as he rose from the ground. "T- Tyradus?!"

Tyradus gasped. He knew that voice.

"Kh'aaru!?"

Tyradus took off his helmet. The Khajiit removed his hood. There was no doubt anymore.

"Brother!" They both shouted. Tyradus stood as quickly as he could. He threw his helmet to the ground.

"I thought that something had happened to you!" Kh'aaru exclaimed. "Why didn't you come for me sooner?"

"Something _did _happen to me. Something bad. I was apparently not far behind a group of Stormcloaks when I entered Skyrim. The Imperial legion ambushed them ahead of me, and captured me as well. I was sentenced to death with them."

"So, then, how are you still alive?"

"Well, I was surrounded by Imperial officers. Right before the axe separated my head from my shoulders, I figured I had to use my _power _to save myself."

"You mean you just used the _power _in front of hundreds of soldiers? We agreed to keep that secret. You ended up killing everybody who saw, correct?"

"Not exactly. All of the Stormcloaks saw it happen, and most of them made it out alive."

"And the Imperials?"

"Dead and burned."

"You'd better pray to the divines that any of them that made it out alive doesn't remember your face. If they do, your fate is just about sealed."

"Come now, Kh'aaru. What's the chance that they'll find me?"

"In cased you haven't noticed, brother, they control half of Skyrim. Not to mention the rest of damned Tamriel!"

"Alright, you have a point. Either way, we should probably set out back home. The sun is beginning to set, and we should cover as much ground as we can."

Kh'aaru sighed, "I guess you're right. Off to Whiterun."

The duo set out, back the way Tyradus had come. It wasn't long before night fell. The two decided to travel on, through the night and hope to reach home by morning. But, while traveling, they saw a strange orange light ahead of them.

Tyradus stopped quickly. "What is that?"

Kh'aaru stopped to think for a second. "Probably a bandit camp."

"Great. They're right in the path, probably waiting for some travelers like us to come along."

"I'm not entirely sure they're bandits, yet. Stay here. I'll check it out."

Kh'aaru climbed into the branches of a heavily-green tree. He hopped from treetop to treetop, with even Tyradus barely able to make out his form in the dark. He stopped once he had gotten close enough to the fire. His predictions were correct: They were bandits. At least thirteen of them, all heavily armored.

"So, what, we just wait here until somebody comes?" A Nord asked.

"Isn't that what I just told you?" The leader, a Redguard in steel armor, replied angrily. "Listen well, Vigunn. This is the last time I'll say it. Yes, we wait until somebody comes. Then, we try and convince them to hand over their money. Anyone who doesn't cooperate, we imprison. We can probably get a ransom if we play our cards right."

Kh'aaru had heard enough. He silently made his way back to Tyradus.

"So, who are they?"

"Thieves and kidnappers. They're waiting for their prey to come to them."

"So, what do we do about them?"

"We give them their prey!"

"What are you talking about, Kh'aaru!?"

"Listen to me..."

"I'm telling you, I saw the trees move. Someone's onto us!"

"Shut your damn mouth, Vigunn. It's probably a hawk or something. Oh... Here comes our first target!"

Tyradus walked toward them. His armor was invisible due to a spell he had cast on it. All they saw was his clothes underneath.

The Redguard drew his dagger, and approached Tyradus.

"You! Traveler! Hand over whatever gold you have on you, or I'll skin you like an elk!"

"Petty bandits like you don't deserve my gold!" Tyradus shouted smugly.

"Alright then, Nord. You've chosen the hard way to do this!" All of the bandits rose at once. Each drew a weapon, both one-handed and two. The Redguard leader drew a sword.

"Now... We're either going to take you hostage or kill you. Take your choice."

A grin cracked over Tyradus's face. "Try to kill me."

The bandits laughed. That was, until a flying dagger struck one in the head, killing him.

"Huh!?"

Kh'aaru, hooded once again, dropped down from a tree, bearing Tyradus's blade. He tossed it to his brother, who caught it perfectly by the hilt in his right hand.

The bandits charged. Tyradus fought head-on with his sword, blocking blows and delivering his own. Kh'aaru cleanly and quickly ducked or sidestepped any attacks coming toward him and stabbed his antagonist's unguarded bodies. It all came down to the Redguard leader, who was backed against a tree.

"Please! Don't kill me!"

Kh'aaru scoffed as his dagger hung out of his sleeve. "We don't have time for this. Let's slit his throat and be done with it!"

"No! Please! I'll do anything!" The armored man had tears in his eyes. He knew his death was inevitable.

"I have another idea..." Tyradus sheathed his sword.

"Yes!" The Redguard shouted. "We can work something-"

An IceSpear pierced his forehead, pinning his body to the tree he was backed against. Streams of blood ran down his head.

"That way, the kill is a lot cleaner!" Tyradus laughed as he and his brother began traveling down the blood-covered trail.


	7. The Beast Within

Chapter 7: The Beast Within

It was midday. Tyradus's happiness took his mind off of his pain. His brother trudged right along with him. Nothing could ruin this moment...

And, as Tyradus thought that very thing, something did indeed ruin the moment. An arrow struck Kh'aaru on the back. The young fighter fell with a grunt onto the ground.

Tyradus's head jerked left and right. As he turned, he saw a heavily-armored Argonian charging at him, bearing a greatsword. He looked back down at Kh'aaru, and he was immediately filled with rage.

_Yes... That's it... _A familiar voice filled his mind. _Let the anger overtake you... He may have killed your brother..._

Tyradus's eyes narrowed. As he reached for his blade, he suddenly lost control of himself. He unwillingly threw off his armor.

"Giving up, are you?" The Argonian scoffed as he continued charging. "Good... Now you'll be easier to slaughter!"

"Not even... close..." Tyradus seethed with rage. "You... scaly bastard!"

His pupils faded, and a tint of red overtook his eyes. He felt his fingernails lengthen into claws.

_That's it, my child... Let it consume you!_

The Argonian stepped back. "What's... happening to you?"

Tyradus grew taller, and his muscles gained weight. He felt fur sprout all over his body. His face lengthened, as did his teeth. A deafening roar filled the air.

The beast grabbed the Argonian by the head and squeezed. The bandit could do nothing but helplessly grab at the wolf's fingers in an impossible attempt of escape. He felt the intense pain of Tyradus's claws slowly seeping into his fragile skull. The Argonian let out one final cry of agony before he stopped struggling and his body went limp.

The beast dropped the body and began licking the warm blood off of his claws. He felt that tasting the blood of his victims gave him strength.

Tyradus felt an arrow strike his back, barely able to pierce his thick hide. He turned and looked around. Kh'aaru was gone, but he saw a Dunmer bowman, trying to hide from view by crouching in a tree. He was obviously another bandit, dressed in hide armor and bearing a simple long bow.

"**Fresh... prey...**" The beast uttered. The words came out highly distorted, yet still understandable. He skulked to the base of the tree and looked up to see the bowman aiming a shot, yet still visibly cowering for his life.

"H-he can't get me up here..." The elf whispered, desperately trying to calm himself.

The wolf looked up with an unsettling grin. His jaw opened and he shouted out a loud and terrifying roar. The elf shouted as he jumped, and he lost his balance. The sheer vibrations of the noise knocked him off of his perch. Several audible cracks were heard as he smashed into the ground.

The beast slowly approached the elf, as he lay on his back. He couldn't move. His legs were broken and his left arm fractured.

"So... this is how it ends, eh?" He whispered to himself. He grunted in pain as he reached his right arm into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of Skooma. "Might as well... take one final hit." He popped the cork out with his thumb and threw back the narcotic. He faintly laughed as the wolf came into his view and stood directly over him. "Alright, monster. Finish me." Tyradus raised one paw and brought it down on the Dunmer's chest. Other than a soft grunt of death, the elf went quietly.

As the wolf feasted on the bandit's carcass, he heard a voice behind him. "I'm sorry."

Two combined blows. Blackout.

Tyradus opened his eyes, to be greeted by an orange sky. He lay in the grass, and felt a pounding in his head. His armor was on him, but he felt the clothing underneath gone.

"You're already awake?" Tyradus jerked himself up, to see Kh'aaru in front of him.

"What? Did something happen, Kh'aaru?" The Khajiit nodded. "Something weird?"

"That would be an understatement..." Kh'aaru sighed. "You must've been infected."

"Infected?" Tyradus was confused.

"Tyradus, back in Cyrodiil, did you ever run into a werewolf? Ever gotten bitten by a strange-looking person?"

"Well, I have been bitten by some questionable people, but the last time that happened was when I turned into a vampire. Boy, was that a hell of a journey to get rid of."

"Yeah, well, at least we knew how to get rid of that one. Now, I'm not sure..."

"What are you talking about, Kh'aaru?" Tyradus looked confused.

"You don't remember any of that?!" Tyradus shook his head. "You... turned into a beast. A werewolf, I think."

"A... A werewolf?" Tyradus looked at his hands. There was dried blood on them, most noticeably on his nails.

"Brother, I saw you change. Your body just... grew into a monster. It wasn't just your hands, either. Before I cleaned you up, your face was a mess of bodily fluids." Kh'aaru pointed to his left. When Tyradus looked back, he saw a dead body lying on the ground.

"What's that?" He asked, getting up to examine it. It was the Wood Elf, with bloody gashes all over his body. A deep hole was in his chest- his heart was torn out. There were large holes in his throat, showing where Tyradus had bitten him to draw blood.

"That was you, Tyradus. You killed that Elf."

"M-Me?" Tyradus could barely look at the body.

"Yes, you. You've got some sort of... thing."

"Thing?" Tyradus gave his brother a questioning look.

"I don't know what you'd call it. Disease, curse, power, transformation, gift, ability..."

"I'm not sure what it is, but I know I want it gone. We need to return to Whiterun as quickly as possible, to tell Father about it."

"Right. He may know what to do. If not, we can try the Companions, or Arcadia. Maybe priestess Danica could help us."

The pair hurried back to their hometown. As they reached the gates, Tyradus saw Fjori on duty once again.

"Fjori!" Tyradus stopped, and Kh'aaru did the same. He could barely talk over his heavy breath. "Wh... Where's my... Father?"

"Engar? I saw him heading into Jorrvaskr about an hour ago. He's probably still there."

They dashed into Whiterun, and hurried up the path to Jorrvaskr. Most of the Companions didn't seem even startled when they barged in, with the exception of Engar and Skjor.

"Father!" Both of the brothers shouted.

"So, I see you've found Kh'aaru!" He laughed heartily. "And, you look like you've had yourself quite an adventure!"

"Father, we can catch up later. This is important. We need to talk somewhere else."

"Just tell me right now, Kh'aaru. I don't think Skjor here will care anyway."

Kh'aaru seemed a bit agitated. Tyradus spoke up.

"I've been infected with Lycanthropy!"

Engar turned pale. Each of the Companions turned to stare at him.

"What, isn't that how you say it?"

Engar didn't hesitate to grab his son's arm and stand.

"We need to speak outside. Now."

They walked out the back, Engar quite hurriedly. Tyradus couldn't shake the feeling of awkwardness with the warriors' eyes constantly on him.

"What do you mean you've been infected?"

Kh'aaru spoke up this time. "Some bandits attacked us, and knocked me down. He got so angry that he just turned into a wild beast! He tore the bandits up, and probably would have done the same to me, if I hadn't paralyzed him."

One Companion was sitting outside. He wore armor just like Skjor's. "You finally gonna tell him?" He asked.

"I guess now's as good a time as ever..."

Tyradus looked confused. Engar looked down with sorrow.

"Son, you got your Lycanthropy from me."

"What?! But... I don't remember you biting me!"

"No, Tyradus. You were born with the power. I became a werewolf years before you were born."

Kh'aaru said nothing. His mouth hung open, and his eyes were about as wide as they could get.

"But... how is that... possible?"

"The Companions... the members of the circle, at least... We're all werewolves. It's a secret we've harbored for generations..."

"You're telling me that, after all these years of aspiring to be a Companion... Feeling like I just wasn't good enough to join such an honorable group... You were just a bunch of dirty dogs devouring people?!"

"Look, Tyradus it isn't that simple. We-"

"I don't want to hear what you have to say, father! I'm leaving! Tonight! And, don't expect me to return anytime soon!"

Kh'aaru finally spoke. "Tyradus, what are you talking about? We just arrived, and now you want to-"

Tyradus turned and began walking away, completely ignoring Kh'aaru. As he passed, Kh'aaru saw the emotion in his brother's eyes. Anger, confusion and despair mixed into one expression. He couldn't even imagine the anguish. Kh'aaru shot a glance at Engar before leaving to follow Tyradus.

Tyradus barged into Breezehome, took off his armor and threw on his robes. He stuffed his journal into his pocket. As he turned to leave, Kh'aaru stopped him.

"Tyradus, you're being a little rash about this. How is leaving Whiterun and never coming back going to help you?"

"I'm going back to the College. I'll see if the mages can find a way to cure me, then I'm going back to Cyrodiil. That will end it all."

"Never speaking to your father again isn't going to make your life any easier, Brother."

"He deserves it. I looked up to him, thinking he was an honorable warrior. And now, it turns out that he only survived because he's a bloodthirsty monster, and brought his whole family into it. If I'm a werewolf, then so is Aeta. And, I doubt she'll find out in a way very different than this."

"Tyradus, what would have happened if he had told you when you were younger? We were stupid when we were young. You would have tried to access your power early, and could have killed yourself, and everybody in Whiterun in the process!"

"That isn't what matters now. I respected my father under the illusion that he was a brave and honorable warrior. Only to find out that he's too afraid to tell his own family about something that affects all of us!"

"Calm yourself, brother! Unless you want to find yourself turning into a beast again!"

Tyradus scoffed and pushed Kh'aaru out of the way. He raised his hood and walked out toward the city gate. He saw one of the Companions there.

"Out of my way, now." Tyradus stated plainly, but with a certain force.

"Kodlak Whitemane has requested to see you," The Companion said as he pushed his black, greasy hair out of his face.

"I have no time, Companion."

"My name is Farkas, imp. You'd do best to remember it. There's no refusing a summoning from Kodlak."

"Ugh, fine, _Farkas. _I'll speak with your leader."


	8. Packbrother

Author's Note: I'm sorry for the very (VERY) long absence. My laptop broke, and I had to go through the process of trying to get it fixed before eventually just having to get a new one.

Chapter 8: Packbrother

Farkas led Tyradus to Jorrvaskr once more. As they passed Breezehome, Tyradus spotted Kh'aaru leaning against the left side of the house, hooded. There was a look of seriousness on the Khajiit's face. After leading their way through the crowd in the plains district, they arrived at their destination.

Tyradus looked around as they entered. His father was nowhere to be found. The others looked at him with expressions indicating that they knew everything about him.

Farkas brought him down the stairs into the living hall. They turned right and went straight from there.

Kodlak crossed his arms as he saw the young Nord.

"So, you're Tyradus?" Kodlak took a long look at him, before looking down and stroking his beard. "Your father, Engar, has told me about you. You're angered by the fact that the Companions have been keeping our Lycanthropy a secret?"

"That's right, Kodlak. You shouldn't be werewolves in the first place, much less keeping it a secret. Now, I've seen you, so I'm leaving to find a cure at the College."

"Boy, I'm afraid that there is no cure for Lycanthropy. At least, not yet. Honestly, I myself have been... trying to find a cure."

"You just don't appreciate the gift..." Farkas scoffed.

"Quiet, Farkas," Tyradus shot him a dirty look.

"Yes, I've been trying to find a 'cure', but there are other things on my mind. There is a group who knows about our secret, and is determined to bring us down. They call themselves the Silver Hand. I've been too busy worrying about them to look into the rumors of this Lycanthropy alleviation, and I simply don't have a strong enough group to take them down. But, if you were to join us..."

"But, sir, you can't be serious..." Farkas wore an agitated look on his face. "This kid probably doesn't even know how to fight. He's lived most of his life in Cyrodiil!"

"Yeah, as an adventurer!" Tyradus proudly replied. Farkas glared at him.

"Kid, I bet you can't name a single creature you've killed that I haven't."

"You ever fought a Land Dreugh? How about an ogre?"

Farkas scowled. He hadn't fought either of those, not even in his trips to Cyrodiil.

"That's enough, Farkas," Kodlak raised a hand to him. "Look, how about I let you test his mettle? Take him out back, and test him. I'll let him prove his worth to you personally."

"Accepted," Farkas chuckled smugly. He turned to Tyradus. "You think you can take me, Tyraducks?"

"Tyradus..." He corrected. "And yes, I'd be glad to put you down! And, as for you, Kodlak, I'll gladly join the Companions once I finish with Farkas. At least, if that means I can cure the ailment.

Kodlak let out a slight laugh. "He's got a fire in his heart, that's for sure."

Tyradus followed the big man out into the back.

"I guess I'll see you later," Farkas glared. "...In Sovngarde." He drew his iron greatsword.

"I was about to say the same to you!" Tyradus drew his small glass blade.

"You plan on defeating me with that puny weapon?"

"I don't see why not."

Tyradus swung his blade in a horizontal attack. Farkas raised his weapon and blocked the blow, before delivering his own. Tyradus tried to step back and dodge the strike, but it was too late to move. The greatsword dug a gash on Tyradus's left shoulder.

Tyradus winced as the blood soaked a part of his robe. While Farkas recovered from the recoil of his attack, Tyradus quickly applied a weak Restoration spell to his shoulder. It didn't reduce the pain, but the bleeding lightened considerably.

The young Nord looked back up, just to see the Companion readying another attack. Farkas swung his weapon upward.

"You aren't taking me out that easily!" Tyradus shut his eyes, grabbed his sword with both hands and thrust forward. He heard the piercing of armor and felt the tearing of flesh. He opened one eye to see that he had stabbed Farkas, straight in the chest. The Companion stood there, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Tyradus removed his blade. The cut was only a few inches, thankfully. The young Nord didn't aim to kill.

"Ready to accept me, yet? Or, do I need to show you more _real _Nord strength?!

In less than a day's time, Farkas's wound was treated. Not healed, but treated. Farkas brought him back to Kodlak.

"So, how did the newcomer fare against you, Farkas?"

"Well enough, I'd say. I guess that I'll accept him as a... _Pack __brother._ At least, if you do, Kodlak."

"Pack brother?" Tyradus gave Farkas a questioning look. "You mean, Companion?"

"Those are just the normal members. The members of the Circle are referred to as Pack brothers, at least by other Circle members."

"I guess I never knew that Circle was a code word for 'Daedra worshiping cult.' At least you've hidden it well.

"There's not much time left," Farkas said, ignoring Tyradus's smug remark. "I've already informed the others of your induction. Your Blood Ceremony will take place tonight. As a half-blood, you aren't truly a Werewolf. You will become a full one once the Ritual is performed."

"Who said that I wanted to become a full-blooded Werewolf? My Lycanthropy is what I plan to rid myself of."

"Maybe so, but it will benefit you while your time as a beast remains. You will become stronger, both in Nord form and Beast form. Werewolves also can't catch any diseases. Besides, you won't have access to the cure if you aren't a full member of the Circle."

Tyradus closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine, then. Let's get this over with."

As night approached, the members gathered in the Underforge. They prepared everything for Tyradus's arrival and induction.

"This way," Farkas pointed at the secret entrance.

Tyradus walked in, startled to see a Werewolf gathered around the other members. His father was there as well, with a stern look upon his face.

"Don't worry," Vilkas chuckled. "It's only Aela." He took out his sword and grabbed the arm of the werewolf. He cut Aela's wrist, letting the blood drip out into a small cauldron, sitting atop a stone column.

"Now, drink the blood of a beast, and become a full-fledged member of the Circle."

Drinking blood? Though he had done it before because of his Vampiric transformation in the past, the idea still sickened him. He pulled up his sleeve and dipped his hand in the dark, thick liquid. As quickly as he could, he threw the handful back.

Immediately he felt a pulsing in his muscles. It was happening again. He transformed.

Tyradus roared in completion of his change. The beast took a quick look at his father, before darting away without even a glance at the others. The second he came out of the underforge and into the central square of Whiterun, guards were upon him. The werewolf threw to guards aside before grabbing a third and sinking his fangs into the man's throat. He lapped up the gushing blood and howled with triumph.

Tyradus pinned another guard up against Gildergreen. As he began to tear out the man's chest with his claws, he felt a painful sting in his left soldier. It felt like an arrow, but was smaller and struck deeper. He looked up to see a hooded Khajiit atop the wall of Whiterun, holding a crossbow. It was the one person he could recognize, no matter what he had become. Though his own blood lust and confusion hazed his mind, Tyradus couldn't stop himself from staring at Kh'aaru.

The Khajiit leaped down from the wall, landing perfectly on his feet. He fired one more shot at Tyradus before beginning to run toward the main gate.

The bolt struck into Gildergreen's thick bark, just barely missing Tyradus's snout. The beast howled angrily as he began to pursue his brother on all fours. The Khajiit looked back to see the monster chasing him and smiled. It was exactly what he had intended.

Tyradus jerked awake. He could tell that it was midday. He looked down to see that he was wearing robes, but not the ones he had transformed in.

"Awake, finally?" He heard Aela behind him.

"Yeah, now." Tyradus's head throbbed.

"So, how was your transformation?"

"Unbearable... I couldn't control myself, but I could see and feel everything I was doing. I felt the blood of innocents on my hand, I-"

"Look, don't overreact. It happened to all of us. Besides, you'll learn to control your beast form over time. Now, if you're done complaining, we have work to do."

"I just have one question... Where did I get these robes?"

"Well, since yours were destroyed when you transformed, we gave you new ones."

"All that work I put into the enchantment... I should've thought about this..." Tyradus let out a long sigh.

"Does your stupid magic effect really matter at this point in time?"

"Tell that to all of the human souls I used perfecting that enchantment."

"Would you just shut up for a few minutes? This is where your first assignment begins!" Aela pointed at a huge tower to the east of them. "That's a Silver-Hand base. We're going to raid it, and defeat their leader, Krev the Skinner. I don't think I need to tell you why they call him that."

"I think the fact that he's a Werewolf hunter makes it clear enough."

"Good. Now, let's get moving. Skjor is already inside.

As they entered, they immediately saw the heads of many werewolves mounted on spikes. Blood dripped to the ground, indicating that they were somewhat fresh. The stench of death filled the air.

Tyradus stopped and buried his nose in his elbow. Aela, ahead of him, beckoned him on. He held his breath and followed. As they walked down a short passage, Tyradus heard a voice.

"Stop!" Tyradus whispered to Aela. She looked at him and nodded. He heard the voice again.

"It must've been one of those damn Companions!" They heard a man shout.

A female replied, "Don't worry about it. Even if that monster gets all the way through, Krev will take care of it."

Tyradus took a step forward to see the two heavily-armored Nords standing over the dead body of an Orc. They looked weak enough for him to take on by himself. He raised one of his hands and signaled to Aela. "Stay here, I'll handle them."

"I hope you're right. If the skinner is killed, then we're finished. He's the strongest that we got."

"Whether or not Krev is killed, you're finished."

"Wha-" The woman didn't even get a chance to turn around before blood shot out of her lower body, along with the edge of a glass blade.

She dropped, and the man saw Tyradus with a smug look on his face. "So, would you care to be next? Or, do you feel like running? I could use a little target practice with my magic."

"That's some practice you'll never get the chance to take, beast!" The Silver-Hand reached for his sword, but a gout of flames hit his face before he even reached the hilt. He fell to his knees and cried out in agony. Tyradus effectively silenced his shrieking by giving the man a blade to the chest.

"Nice job," Aela commented. "You killed them without even taking a scratch."

"That's just the way I like it. I'd rather not sustain life-threatening injuries every time I get into a fight. Now, come on, we should catch up with that Skjor person."

They made their way through the rest of the Silver-Hand base without much trouble. They took care of every Silver-Hand member they saw, and ignored the feral werewolves that were imprisoned in the tower.

Just before they rounded the final corner, Aela stopped.

"This is where Krev the skinner should be. I've no doubt that it'll be him and at least seven or eight other werewolf hunters."

"Doesn't sound too difficult. Seeing how weak the other members were, I doubt it'll prove to be much of a challenge."

"I wish you were right, Tyradus. Now, come on, attack!"

Aela drew her steel dagger and Tyradus his glass sword. They charged into the room, where the Silver-Hand were ready for them. Tyradus charged directly toward the one at the center, who he knew to be Krev the Skinner. The Orcish warrior smiled and prepared to swing a silver greatsword. It was an attack he knew that his Nord opponent would walk right into.

Tyradus opened his eyes wide. He didn't notice the attack before it was too late; the Orc was rushing back toward him at great speed.

Three words suddenly echoed in Tyradus's mind: _**Tiid Klo Ul**_.

_What the...?_

His mind raced back to the day he nearly died in the fighter's guild.

The Khajiit kicked him down, and stood over him with a dagger in hand.

"Shouldn't have tried to play the hero!" The bandit shouted as he clutched the handle. He prepared to give the final blow.

That's when it had happened: three strange words appeared in his mind. He felt urged to say them.

"**FUS RO DAH**!" The next thing he knew, the bandit was off of him, and Tyradus had won the fight.

His instincts saved him once before, he had to trust them again. He shouted the words aloud.

"**TIID KLO UL**!" Tyradus opened his eyes. Everything was slowed, as if time was stopping. Tyradus saw his chance and took it. Before the skinner's blade made contact, Tyradus plunged his own into the Orc's stomach. He heard a long scream and blood splashed over his hand, as the slowing of time ended. He felt his enemy struggle for a few more seconds before finally falling limp. Tyradus slid the glass blade out of the body, feeling victorious.

The feeling didn't last long. Immediately, more Silver-Hand were upon him. He did his best to defend, but he took blow after blow from all sides. He knew that Aela could not help him, as he heard her struggling against her own opponent.

One of his aggressors knocked the weapon from Tyradus's hand. The Nord struggled to gain the concentration needed to cast a spell. As one of his attackers prepared to end the fight with an axe strike, Tyradus cast Flame Cloak. He shut his eyes as he heard his enemies shout while their skin boiled. He dispelled the fiery outfit when he heard the smoking bodies of the Silver-Hand hit the ground. He opened his eyes and saw Aela, standing over something.

"Aela?" Tyradus asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Th- they killed..." She stuttered. "They killed Skjor."


End file.
